


Mask (ON PROBABLY INFINTE HIATUS B/C IDK WHAT I'M DOING OR WHERE THE PLOT IS GOING SO THERE'S THAT)

by The_Alternate_Side



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Dissociation, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Low Self-Esteem, Mental Instability, Multi Chapter, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, haters to lovers, help this child please, im still in school have mercy, why am i like this, winston is concerned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7788556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Alternate_Side/pseuds/The_Alternate_Side
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tracer is a cheerful, brave, colorful young hero in Overwatch whom everyone recognizes and knows. But she is also a mask for the one behind Tracer, Lena. No one knows Lena after the slipstream. No one can ever know. And for that, she must wear a mask. Eventual Widowtracer. Please note that this is my first fic.</p><p>((I don't want to orphan this quite yet b/c I have the summary for the next chap but...idk))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Lena had two names and both meant the same person. Lena Oxton was a kind young pilot, the best in her field. She was often seen laughing around her fellow pilots and soldiers or offering a smile or joke to one in need of it. Tracer just flew the plane. Lena and Tracer were one and the same, just in different places. 

Lena and Tracer were lost in space and time. Every hour was a different timeline, a different world, a different horror. She saw wars break out, leaders assassinated, the destruction of the planet, towns blown to pieces, families split apart. She saw couples holding each other in their final moments, knowledge wiped away by treason and fire. And she could do nothing. She couldn’t interact with anything, she just had to watch everything happen as she helplessly stood by and watched like a god without control. Every hour a different timeline, a different world, a different horror.

But one day she woke up next to her friends. Her real friends, Winston and Angela and Hana and Lucio and so many others she can't think to name right now. Winston gave her a long lecture about what the harness on her chest did but the only thing she remembered from it was that it kept her here. Without it, she would slip away again and this time, she won’t return. 

She recovered and started wandering around the new base. About a month in she realized that they all seemed...disappointed? But at what? What could had been different from the last time she saw them before the incident? 

The nightmares were different. The screaming and Jack running to her door was different. Waking Winston up in the middle of the night to check if it's working was different. Panicking because it's the next hour on the clock. Putting herself in danger so that she makes a difference. Being impatient or never liking to just watch. To hate feeling powerless or out of control. To always feel weak or down when something bad happened in the world. To constantly check that she’s still here. To need stimulation to not lose her grip on reality. That was all different.

Or maybe it's not just that. Maybe it's missing things from her past. Maybe it's not smiling or joking. Maybe it's not laughing. Maybe it's not being brave or strong. Maybe it’s not trying new things. Maybe it’s not staying calm. Maybe it’s not being able to stay back. Maybe it’s disobeying orders. Maybe it's not being herself. 

But then again that wouldn't be herself. That wouldn't be Lena. That would be Tracer. They were expecting to see Tracer. Overwatch was expecting to see Tracer. The world was expecting to see Tracer. 

Not Lena. 

The world doesn't know Lena anymore. Overwatch doesn't know Lena anymore. Even her friends don't know Lena anymore. 

Lena has to be hidden away, concealed from the world. She’s too delicate, too broken, too ugly, too scared. So Lena hid herself behind a mask called Tracer. 

Tracer was what the world needed and wanted. She was kind, brave, strong, responsible, cheerful, daring, calm, collected, funny, outgoing, loud, noisy, and above all…

A hero. 

She became the new poster girl, the new face, of Overwatch. 

Or maybe mask is a better term.


	2. Unreal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how beautiful or elaborate or detailed a mask is, it is still fragile. A piece of art made of glue and paper mache. A mask can break or be wiped blank in a single moment or an hour. It can be easily recreated but not in front of others.

Winston did a wonderful job on the accelerator. Waterproof, bulletproof, easy to maintain and clean, it was even padded. Angela did brilliantly as well, ridding Lena of all physical problems after the incident. But no doctor or scientist could fix her mind. How could they? They didn’t even know something was wrong in the first place. To them, Lena was in perfect mental and physical health and would always ask if she did need help. But only Tracer was in perfect health, while Lena was the opposite. The mask was an illusion of good health and sanity and she was keen on keeping it on.

\----------

Derealization: A feeling that one's surroundings are not real. To others, it seems they are just spaced out, while to the victim they are entirely different. Senses are dulled, words become background noise, bone-breaking grips become light touches, lights fade to a dull shimmer, and everything familiar becomes like something from an alien world. The brain will typically do this as a coping mechanism in times of high stress or anxiety. 

But not for Lena

Instead, it’s a result of the slipstream incident. The accelerator keeps her body in the correct timeline but her brain is in another. But without her body, it just reduces the sensory input of the current timeline and enhances the inputs of a different one.

She knows how to stop it, that’s not a problem. Eating something spicy or hot, shocking herself with water, pinching herself, grounding herself, the list goes on and on. The problem arises when she fails to do so, and the mask slips away with her mind.

\---------

Today Lena felt her mind being tugged towards a different timeline. No big deal just needed to find something to stimulate her. Her best bet was ginger since no one ever used it. She ran to the kitchen to find Ana cooking dinner with Reinhart. 

“Ello Ana. Tell me, do you know where the ginger is?” she said. 

“Oh, I used the lot of it. There was so much and it was going to waste. I made gingerbread cookies and then put the rest of the root in the stew for dinner tonight. Would you like to try some?”

“N-no thank you.” There was no ginger so the best next thing was peppers. Also found in the kitchen. Convenient. 

“Rein, you know where the peppers are?”

The giant man didn’t look up from the vegetables he was chopping.

“Reinhart please.” she asked again.

He still didn’t look up. Panic was building inside of her. Panic lead to high stress which led to her brain starting to slip away quicker. He needs to look up. But now Ana noticed how tense she was.

“Reinhart dear.” Ana said, “Tracer wants to know where the peppers are.”

“OH, THE PEPPERS ARE WITH THE MONKEY.”

“There is no need to yell. We are in the kitchen and you just hurt my old ears.”

“Sorry.” 

“It’s alright.” Ana then turned to Tracer. “There’s your answer dear, now run off and get them for whatever reason. And hurry, I do not like seeing my teammates stressed out.

“Thanks, luv!” Tracer yelled as she ran off to Winston’s lab. He’s probably using them for an experiment of some sort. The lab was across the base from the kitchen and everything else in case of an accident. Tracer had to blink to get there in time. She had to get there in time. She had to. As she blinked she started slipping away but she was determined to stop it. 

When she arrived Lena composed herself and made sure the mask was secure. She had to maintain herself, no matter how panicked Lena was. She knocked on the door and waited for an answer, which was a deep “come in”. 

“Hiya Winston! Do you know-” She stopped mid-sentence. Her mouth didn’t feel like it was moving at all. Like there was no sound coming out. Was she standing? Floating? She was differently floating. There was nothing on her chest, no weight or anything. The lights in the room started going dull.

“Y ou o kay T ra ce r ?” Said the figure in front of her.

She could see a different world but couldn’t feel it. The floor was a different color, it looked black and red but that wasn't’ right. Was it? Where was she? Was she a ghost again?

“T r a ce r?”  
She thinks he may have called her name again. Her mask name again. She couldn’t hear anything he was saying. Were there explosions in the background? What timeline was it now? The lights of the lab turned into suns on a different planet, brighter and brighter. She couldn’t move anything. Everything was unreal.

\---------------

Lena woke up wrapped in a blanket in Winston’s tire. He was sitting right next to her eating a banana. 

“Oh, you’re awake.”

She didn’t feel awake. She felt like she was lost in her body. 

“What happened Lena?”

He saw what happened. He saw Lena. He saw everything.

She needed to run and repair the mask.

Lena jumped out of the tire and started running towards her room, still holding the blanket. 

“Lena come back please.”

No, she couldn’t go back. She couldn’t let him see anything else behind what remained of the mask. 

“Lena please!”

She just kept on running.


	3. Reassemble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masks take time to make or repair. Hours of hard work paying attention to the smallest of details. One mistake and you must start over. Because of this, silence is needed to focus, and that is best achieved when alone.
> 
> If, however, the mask-maker is disturbed, then they miss details, get distracted, break the mask again even. This must not happen for it means extra hours of work.

Lena was curled up on her bed under a blanket. Why, why did it have to happen in front of him? He will ask questions, she could already hear him behind the door.

“Lena what happened?”

He’s going to hate me for not telling him.

“Lena, are you okay?”

He’s going to blame himself for not noticing.

“May I come in?”

She knew he would wait for an answer, and only have the answer be yes. He could wait outside all day until he was let in or got hungry. Or just bust down the door. Either or. 

Rebuild the mask. Put up some defenses. No tears, strong voice, keep eye contact. Tracer is well and healthy and fine.

She opened the door with a smile on her face.

“Heya big guy! Come on in!” she said, gesturing to one of her chairs. The gorilla walked in slowly as if he was expecting her to change her mind. Lena was very close to doing so, she was terrified he would find out. What would his reaction be? What would he feel? Would he hate her? Would he hate himself? Would he not want to be her friend anymore? Will he leave her alone?

Lena just hoped the mask would hold. 

“So Lena,” he started, “is everything alright?”

He asked for Lena but Tracer responded, “Of course, never been better!”

“Lena what happened back there? You were yelling for someone to help them. Who’s them?”

She didn’t remember screaming, she didn’t hear herself scream. Only the families as lava flowed over them in the other timeline. She didn’t scream in her own.

“No one, just being crazy as always!” She laughed. He didn’t buy it.

“You’re not okay, what’s wrong?”

The mask had to hold. 

“I’m fine Luv!”

“You didn’t seem fine.”

“I swear on me mum I was. I am.”

Had to hold.

“You positive?”

Hold.

“Yes.”

If he asked one more time the mask would break.

“Well okay then. Just know that you can come to me at any time.” He said getting up. “Really, though, Lena, if you need help I’m always in my lab.”

“I’ll remember that! I’ll come visit sometime!”

“You better! Sorry for bothering you.” 

“Aww mate, a visit from you is never bothering!” she giggled, finally closing the door. She didn’t even move from the door once it was closed, just slid down to sit at the base. 

Tracer was strong enough to hold in her weakened state. She held Lena back from spilling out everything she wanted to keep in. Held her back from showing herself to the world. She can never let him know. He would definitely hate himself and blame himself. He would blame himself for not realizing it, for not paying attention, for not being a best friend. But would he hate her for hiding Lena? At this point, she’s been hidden for so long that he might. He probably would hate that he didn’t see his best friend for so long, that he was only talking to a masked figure in her place. And then he would leave her more alone than before. She would have no one to turn to on anything. And maybe she deserves that. No, she definitely deserves that. Her friends shouldn’t have to put up with that. The ones that thought Tracer was still Lena didn’t deserve the mask. That’s why she is alone and should be.

Because no one wants to be friends with a mask.

\-----

Breathe in, breathe out. Reassemble, rebuild.


	4. Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mask has holes in it so the world around can be seen. They are not necessarily cracks but can be used as such, for they show part of what’s behind. 
> 
> Philosophers have always said that eyes are the windows to the soul. That they convey as much emotion as any other part of the face, but only if you know what to look for.

Winston returned to the lab after leaving Tracer back in her room. Something was definitely going on that she wasn’t telling him. Which is completely reasonable, everyone has their secrets. Just because he shares everything with her doesn’t mean that she has to do the same. Normally her secrets were just crushes or that she ate the rest of the bananas, yet this one seemed different. Bigger, scarier, possibly dangerous. He had to tell someone else about her condition. Yes, there is a chance that she would find out- make that a very high chance- but it was for her health and safety. 

“Ah, there you are! I was able to modify the peppers that Hana wanted. Who knows what that girl will use them for…” said Angela. 

Another scientist is always ready to lead an ear, no matter if it’s personal or scientific problems. 

“Winston? You stuck in thought?”

“Wha- oh no no it’s fine. I just wanted to ask you something.” 

“Say it then. I’ll just be cleaning up from the experiment.” she responded, and then started picking up parts from the latest one. 

“I think something is up with Tracer.”

Angela didn’t pause from what she was doing, “There’s always something up with her.”

“It’s serious. I don’t think she’s well.”

This statement made Angela stop and turn towards the gorilla. 

“Her medical records show that she is in peak physical and mental health, why would you say that?”

Winston could either apologize for thinking of the statement or tell her what he saw. One would drop the subject but Tracer would go without being examined while the other would reveal something private and possibly cause Tracer to be mad at him… He would risk it, she needed help.

“I saw something.”

“Well then are you going to tell me or just let me guess?”

“Tracer came into the lab earlier today looking for something- I don’t know what it was because she stopped midsentence and froze in place. I called her name twice and asked if she was okay and she didn’t respond. She started shaking all over and tried to move but she couldn’t and that made her panic. I went off to get a blanket of some sort but that’s when she started screaming.”

“What was she screaming about?”

“Hold on hold on. At first it was just a scream but then she started shouting at no one. Possibly at me but I wasn’t sure. She kept yelling ‘You have to help them. Why aren’t you helping them? I can’t do anything please help whoever you are.’ The screams became more desperate and strained and-and she.”

He was starting to choke up as he remembered it. His best friend was screaming and all he did was ask if she was okay afterwards and didn’t insist on an answer. He didn’t offer her blankets or comfort or closeness or a hug or anything. Just an answer he didn’t get. 

“Winston you don’t have to tell me any more, I get the picture.”

But if he told Angela everything then she could help Tracer...

“She started crying. She-she curled up and started to-”

“Winston I understand. I will talk to her.” 

“You will?”

“Of course, she needs my help and as a doctor, I must do my job and help her.”

“Thank you, I will remember this.”

“No problem my friend, now if you would please step out of the lab, as mental health check-ups are doctor-patient confidential.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ah, you’re here. Please have a seat.” said the doctor, gesturing to a chair across from her. Tracer knew this had to be a mental health appointment, meaning Winston told her what he saw. She trusted him. This could just be a normal appointment- no she had her clipboard and a concerned look. This was going to be about the episode. She could keep up the mask and pretend everything was fine, that she was perfectly okay. Or let the mask fall and tell her everything. Certainly not the second option, the doctor has enough things to worry about and she would just be adding another burden. She doesn’t need to spend her time trying to help someone hidden. The mask had to stay on, she couldn’t know everything. What would she do about it? Put her on pills? Take time out of her busy day to talk to her? She’s already doing that. She knows about the episode and she can just lie and say it was average dissociation. But that wouldn’t work assuming that Winston told her everything. Maybe lie about what the problem was? Or-

“Lena!” Angela shouted, snapping her out of the thought process. What to do, what to do, what to do, what to do-

“May I ask what you’re thinking about? You seemed to be very... deep in thought.” Tracer didn’t move or speak or anything, she was frozen again.

“Perhaps taking a seat would help?” 

She slowly moved over to the chair and tried to steady her body and mind. The mask must stay on. 

“So, have you been getting enough sleep?” 

No she hasn’t. She stays away as long as possible until she feels like she will pass out. She goes on the rooftop or stares out the window or just runs until morning and it’s a normal time to wake up. She wants to avoid any nightmares or dreams that haunt her. She never wants to sleep again sometimes.

“Yes, I have been.”

“Oh really. That’s very interesting. Now would you be interested in telling the truth?” Angela said. That statement only made Lena shrink further behind the mask. What would happen if she did tell the truth? 

“I haven’t.” Oh bloody hell, she was too brave, she told the truth. What could she cover it up with? Not nightmares. Not the weather. Insomnia maybe? Yes that will do. She’s a doctor, she’ll believe that. 

“Because of insomnia.” 

“Ah, of course.” She probably didn’t believe her.

“Now, Tracer, have you experienced any dissociation?”

She couldn’t lie about this one, even if she tried. Angela already knows the truth, she’s just testing if Lena says it.

“Yes. But I know how to handle it.”

“I’m well aware and you do a wonderful job. But what about when you aren’t able to prevent it?”

“Wait it out.”

Tracer sat in silence as the pen moved across the page. It somehow made her more anxious than before.

“Now for the next question, have you been keeping anything bottled up? Any anxiety, pain, fear, secrets, anything along those lines?” 

Yes. She’s been anxious and afraid about her friends not liking Lena, about the mask falling apart, about being seen without it. She kept in the pain of peppers making sores in her mouth or stinging nerves from ice cubes she squeezed in her hand. She kept so many secrets, so so many. One for each timeline and then even more. So Tracer answers with the truth.

“No.”

Tracer didn’t keep anything in.

“You can tell me anything, these meetings are confidential. No one will know.”

Well, she can’t trust Winston so why can she trust Angela. 

“You can trust me. If not as a doctor then as a friend.”

“I’m fine.”

Angela sighed and moved to the chair next to Tracer, leaving her clipboard behind.

“Lena listen to me. As a doctor I have valid concerns about your mental health. But as a friend- I’m even more concerned that you’re acting like this. That you feel like you can’t open up. That you feel like you can’t trust us. Friends are there to help you. Please, just as a friend, let me help you.”

The offer to open up was too good to be true. She was probably just a burden. Probably just put up with. Probably has some use in the future only to be thrown aside afterwards. And her last friend told this person a secret. Secrets aren’t doctor-patient confidential, they can be shared when one has had too much to drink or in the dead of the night. Secrets can get out. 

She can’t open up. She can’t take off the mask. The only thing she could do was run. 

“Thank you, but I am fine.”

Tracer expected Angela to get back up and tell her she was dismissed. But she didn’t. 

“I don’t believe you, Lena.”

She isn’t talking to Lena, she’s talking to Tracer.

“I thought you two were the same.”

She said that out loud. She revealed she was wearing a mask. 

She had to go. Go and hide and build a better one. And this time, Angela didn’t stop her.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hello again Angela. So did you get any farther than I did?”

“Yes I did, surprisingly. Tracer and Lena are different sides of the same coin.”

“Like multiple personalities?”

“No like Tracer is a cover up for Lena.”

“Was she brainwashed?”

“No! It was like Tracer was just a mask...”


	5. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masks don’t last forever. Paper falls off, paint runs, clay crumbles to dust. There is no point in trying to fix a destroyed mask, no point in gluing the pieces back together. The only option is to recreate it to be stronger than before.

Lena calmed her pace to a walk, she couldn't be suspicious, couldn’t draw attention to herself at this moment. If one more person asked if she was okay she wouldn’t be able to say she was fine, she would finally crack. Everything was going alright until she saw Hana and Lúcio preparing to record something. 

“Hey Lena, you wanna record with us! We’re doing an ice bucket challenge!” Hana called as she waved at Tracer. 

“I keep tryin’ to tell her that the challenge is so old school but she won’t listen. It is for charity though so I’m happy doing it.” Said Lúcio. She was about to say no but her voice wouldn’t be steady enough to convince them she was alright. The would question her, possibly in front of the entire world if the camera was accidentally rolling. 

“Lena?” 

They were going to ask. 

So she ran, just like what she did with the rest of her problems. Someone questions her, run away. Someone asks, run away. Something even remotely difficult occurs, she runs away. Run away as fast as she can and hope no one catches her. Hope no one trips her, stops her along the way. Run away and repair and rebuild it stronger so she can face the world and tell them all that Lena and Tracer are fine. That they’re healthy and working. That they're still heroes.

But only Tracer is. 

“Tracer wait!” Her friends call. She could hear Hana and Lúcio beginning to run after her. They would stop her, ask her, and then she would break down in front of her two friends. They would have too many questions. Questions about what happened. About the timelines. About why she's like this. It would overwhelm her and she couldn't do anything to stop them. 

She can't run to her room, they would sit outside and wait patiently until she came out. No, they wouldn't do that...yes they would. They would be concerned. They would tell others, ask others. 

A closet wasn't an option, it would be too cramped and trapped and closed in. Seal her into the reality that she was breaking down and leave no place for an escape.

The rooftop perhaps? It was open and she could calm down and look at the sky. Plus her friends didn't go on the roof much so they wouldn't follow. It was the perfect sanctuary.

“Lena stop running and talk to us!” Said Angela. Now she was trying to chase her down to. It felt like the whole world was chasing her at this moment, begging her for answers. She started running faster across the base. They were slowing down, knowing they couldn’t catch up, and she made her escape to the rooftop. 

\---------------------

Rooftops are always peaceful. Just yourself and the open sky. Endless amounts of stars with endless amounts of planets circling them. And that's just in the galaxy. What about the local cluster, or supercluster, or even the universe. Infinite amounts of planets and potential for life. 

Lena sometimes looked up at the stars and thought what the point of living was. Would it matter if she was gone, if she didn't exist? The universe didn't care, it would just keep on ticking without a care or concern. So what was the whole point? Trying to find if there was a point was occasionally the only thing keeping her alive. And that was enough to hold on to.

\--------------------

Lena was correct on the assumption that no one would follow her up there, so she began to steady herself in peace. She had to focus on making Tracer stronger and stronger. If word got out that Overwatch’s star hero was mentally unstable the press would go nuts. She couldn't let that happen to her friends and let everything she worked for go to waste just because she couldn’t hide Lena. The world wouldn’t forgive her as it fell into chaos without Overwatch. That can never happen. 

Oh, what had she done? Everything was so perfect the hundreds of days before, what had gone wrong? Luck, luck had gone wrong. No, it was how fast she was, not luck. Luck was an illusion only children and the desperate believed. She wasn’t fast enough to get herself stable, she wasn’t fast enough to get out of sight, she wasn’t fast enough to get away from Winston or Mercy or Hana or Lúcio or anyone. No matter how much or how far she ran, Lena was never fast enough.   
She had no one to blame but herself and deserved everything coming her way. It was all her fault. 

Lena felt tears running down her cheeks, how long had she been crying? She was out of breath to, from running and crying probably. She broke down but not in front of others so they would never know. The tears eroded away the rest of her mask. The day had been too much, with dissociation and questioning and running and breaking. 

“Why?” Lena cried at the sky, “Why would you do this?” Why would the heavens curse her to this life? Why would the stars look down upon her without sympathy? Why had space and time collaborated to make her like this?

Because the night sky is cold and unforgiving. It doesn’t care about your suffering, it doesn’t care what it has forced you to go through, it doesn’t care what it has done or what happened after. It provides no light, no warmth. The stars glare at you like thousands of tiny eyes judging you for what they have done. There is no comfort in the night, no response from her screams and cries. 

That’s why she always liked the daytime skies. Wisps of clouds so easy to fly through, calming to watch. Sunlight bathing your skin in warmth and light. The calm blue gradient reminding you of happy days and happy thoughts. Telling you the day will be better than the cold, dreaded night. 

“Tomorrow will be better.” Lena said to the sky, “Tomorrow Tracer will appear and I will not.”

Lena always preferred the sky, just like she preferred the mask.


	6. Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mask can be made of many different things. Some are made of metal or clay or paper mache. Each one built for a specific task, for specific detail.
> 
> Because of the nature of masks, they conceal identity and emotion. A tool useful to some but a burden to others. Both of which can be the same person.

Winston, Ana, Angela, and Jack were all sitting at the conference table. Jack had called the other three down just a few minutes before.

"Well now, are we just going to sit and stare at each other or are you going to tell us what's going on?" Ana said, glaring at Jack. She had to walk away from a very nice game of chess with Satya to come to this meeting.

"I've caught wind of an assassination attempt going on later this week in London."

"Excuse me, Jack, but may I ask where you got your information from? This is a concern of the security of Overwatch and of your loyalties." Winston asked. He didn't want to be taking orders from a Talon agent.

"...inside man. And also it's none of your business. The target is most likely going to be Mondatta, a well-known religious figure and peacekeeper. If the attempt is successful then tensions will rise again and it might lead to a second Omnic Crisis in England."

"We obviously need to send someone in to prevent this," Ana said. "I was thinking about sending in Reinhart to act as a shield. He would still be able to deliver his speech but be protected."

"I was actually thinking Tracer since she could attack first and she's familiar with the area." Jack replied. He had a point, to. Reinhart could not stop the assassin since they were most likely very fast and he would be constantly asking where to go.

"I think it would be wise if Reinhart went and Tracer told him where to go." Winston did not want her going on the field in her state.

"But she has passion to, Monyetta is one of her idols. She would have more energy, more fire, to defend him." Jack argued, "Now are there any other ideas against sending Tracer? If so, speak now."

"I have something against it." Angela began. "Lena is not in the right mental state to be sent out into the field. I believe you read my report?"

"Yes I did and the only thing wrong was a bit of insomnia, which I'm sure will be useful during the mission."

"But her-"

"Dissociation? Her response tells me that she knows how to handle it and has been for months. And whenever I see her, she is smiling and happy and always ready to take action. Therefore I have no concern with sending her out on this mission."

Angela knew a lost cause when she saw one. She just had to hope that Tracer was strong enough to fight.

\------------------------------------

It wasn't that hard to hunt Tracer down, there were few spots she frequented. Jack decided to chance the track and found her doing laps. She slowed down to a jog when she saw him trying to catch up.

"Heya Jack! What's the news?" Tracer asked. She hoped it was something to distract her, something to get her away from the team for a bit. She felt too closed up, too exposed.

"New mission," He said, trying to keep up with her, "in King's Row. It's to stop an assassination of Omnic peacekeeper Mondatta."

"Oh, I know him! It would be an honor to!" She had met him once after attending one of his speeches and loved his passion for Omnic rights.

"You leave for England tomorrow. Since it's undercover you'll be flying commercial instead of a private jet and can't be issued to a safe house. If word somehow gets out that Overwatch will be there then they might have an ambush and find the hideouts. But you have your own apartment so that shouldn't be a problem."

"So I just need to be on the lookout? Blend into the crowd until I see someone, and then stop them?"

"Exactly. I fought for you to take this mission instead of Reinhart. Angela and Winston were oddly reluctant to let you go. But I trust you will do well."

"Aww, thanks, luv! I'll go get packed!" Tracer said as she started running back into the base.

Jack didn't believe what those two had said. He still believed that she was okay, he still believed the mask. She had to focus on what to pack right now, she couldn't think about what would happen if she...no don't think about that. This mission will go as planned, Jack will be proud and her friends would think Lena was well again. Everything will be great.

\-------------------------------------

Thoughts started to trickle in. This mission was bigger than just seeing a speech. If she failed, tension between robots and humans would escalate almost back to the Omnic Crisis. There was already one going on in Russia and all it would take was a spark to start a new one in her homeland. If she failed then she would be the reason for a second Omnic Crisis. If she failed she would be the cause of millions of deaths. It would be like a different timeline if that happened, she could do nothing to help. She would just have to watch as bodies were pushed into the depths of the Underground, watch as bastions plowed down whole families like they were grass, watch as the rest of the world followed, watch as her friends fell to mechanical guns and soulless eyes. Watch as she destroyed the world.

But she was part of Overwatch. They stopped the Crisis last time so what would be different now? They could easily do it again.

No, now there were different rules, different codes, different weapons. A mass link between them all. A leader shot dead and global outrage at the same time. It would start all at once and Overwatch could not handle that.

If she failed she would destroy the world.

What a wonderful thought to start the mission.

\--------------------------------------------

Lena had spent so much time stressing out about the mission that she didn't remember her mode of transportation until she was buckled in. A commercial airplane, hundreds of people flying from one destination to another with no weapons or defenses. What if the plane breaks apart? What if we get shot down? What if we get attacked? What if the engine fails? What if there's a gun on the plane? What if we get lost? Lena kept thinking of everything and anything that could go wrong.

What if, what if, what if. What if the pilot was a newbie and they messed up? What if they lost control of the plane? What if this plane was equipped with a Slipstream device and she disappeared again? What if they all disappeared?

"Excuse me." said a small voice next to her. Tracer forced herself to look at the source of the sound. A little girl was sitting next to her, buckled in already.

"Are-are you Tracer?" she asked. Oh right, she was supposed to be Tracer. Kind, brave, Overwatch hero Tracer. Kids don't want to meet broken down Lena. She breathed and made sure her face was wiped clean of any anxiety of the flight.

"Yes, I am actually! But don't tell anyone, I'm on a secret mission." Tracer whispered. The girl's eyes grew wide with excitement.

"But do I get to know? Pretty please?" she begged. What would be the harm of telling her where she was going?

"Alright, but you need to be quiet about it. Don't tell anyone. Do you swear?"

"I swear!"

"I'm heading to King's Row to protect someone making a speech there."

"So you're a guardian! I always wanted to be one of those! Someone who protects something, right?"

"Yep! And you know what?" Tracer said, leaning in a bit closer, "You're a guardian of a secret."

"Woah! That counts? Does that also mean I'm a hero?"

"Of course! The world could always use more heroes!"

The girl laughed again when an adult appeared behind her. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, meaning she must had been her mother.

"There's my little girl! I was looking all over the plane for you!" Said the woman, who then reached down to pick her daughter up.

"Mum, she said I was a hero now! And that the world could always use more! Are you proud of me?"

"Of course, I'm proud! Now we need to go to our seats. Say bye to your friend!"

"Bye Bye!"

"See ya!" Said Tracer, giving her a small wave. Her mother mouthed a quick 'thank you' before returning to her own seat.

\------------------------------------------------

Tracer was always good with kids. They flocked to her, asking her questions about anything. They were so sensitive to, they knew when they hit a sensitive subject and backed off. They still took joy in being called a hero, and they were so full of hope for the future. Not knowing the state of the world must be a blissful existence.

Lena almost never interacted with kids. She always seemed alarmed at the questions or nervous or shaky. Lena only comes out around kids that she's alone with. Kids in the streets that need a place to stay for a bit. Kids in the park doing their homework. Kids crying in an alley. Only then, because then Tracer doesn't need to appear to the public. Because then they really need Lena, who has been through pain, has been through suffering and can actually help from experience. No brave mask could accomplish that.

\------------------------------------------------

Lena braced herself for takeoff and flight to London. Maybe if she gripped the armrest hard enough the plane would hold together. But until then she just had to hope.


	7. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masks don’t breathe. Masks don't blink or have a pulse or anything. They are just works of art that imitate life. But the ones who wear masks...
> 
> They’re alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what this is. I had to watch the short like 20 times in slow motion to get this the best that I could.

Lena was very happy to have both feet on solid ground again. She had to fly planes for Overwatch, sure, but Tracer flew those while Lena curled up in the back of her mind. It was about 6 p.m at the moment so she had just enough time to go to her apartment, grab a bite, and get her gear on before running to the speech at 8. She hoped that for once, time was on her side.

\------------------------------------------

The crowd was already alive and packed in front of the podium by the time Tracer got there. It was a mix of diversity, from all races of humans to Omnics. They were holding signs for peace, holding each other, all chanting the same name. Lena felt overwhelmed at everything here, it was too enclosed, no easy escape. But Tracer felt fine in every way; to her this was just another mission. She pushed herself closer to the front of the crowd to get a better look at her idol. A young girl next to her perked up when she saw Tracer, trying to get her mother’s attention and tell her that her hero was there. Security was everywhere, but not heightened, meaning that they did not know there was going to be an attempt tonight. 

The bodyguard closest to the podium gestured towards the crowd and out stepped a regal-looking Omnic dressed in silver robes. The crowd went completely silent as he walked to the podium. Tracer moved her head so she could see him better. In front of her was her idol, the person, robot actually, she looked up to the most. If she could ignore the fact that there was a chance he would be assassinated today, she would have enjoyed this. 

“Human. Machine. We are all one within the Iris.” Mondatta started, opening his arms to the audience. They all cheered, Lena included, for he spoke what they all believed in. 

“Before me, I see the future. Humans and Omnics standing together...united by compassion.” Everyone was silent, absorbing his words, cherishing them. 

Tracer noticed the security guard listening closely to his comm. When he looked up she followed his line of sight to the roofs of the buildings nearby.

“...by common hopes, and dreams.” said the wise Omnic. But she wasn’t paying attention anymore. She pushed her way through the crowd, turning her back on her idol and his words. 

Once out of the crowd, she had to make a plan. The guard’s gaze traveled upwards, towards the rooftops. That’s where she would have to go first.

The streets were empty from the speech, easy to see everything. King’s Row was an older part of London with buildings that were possibly decades old. Most of the apartments had fire escapes, just like her own building. She found one away from the crowd leading all the way to the rooftop. 

The only problem was that it was about 2 and a half meters up from the ladder. She had to jump nearly a meter to get up to it, and that was impossible for her. She took a trash can from a nearby alley and stood on that to reach it. Tracer grabbed the ladder just as the can toppled over. Curse her height, she would had been to the roofs by now if not for that. 

Once she scrambled up the stairs, she ran into yet another problem. Overwatch had been disbanded years ago and all Overwatch activity had been declared illegal. She was an Overwatch agent. There were guards on the rooftops. The guards work for the government, and England was part of the United Nations. Therefore if she got caught she would announce to the entire world that Overwatch was back AND get arrested. Lena was terrified she would imprison all of her friends and they would all hate her for it.

Tracer thought it would be a fun game. 

She hid behind the chimneys, running from one to another. Blinking caused too much sound, she would be noticed. There was a part out in the open, across from where the speech was held. Her only hope was that she would be fast enough to not be seen…

Or maybe...no that would be illegal. But then again her being there was illegal. So what would the harm be? 

She was going to take out the guards. Not kill, just knock them out. Tracer took a deep breath and ran out from her hiding spot, expecting to be fired at.

But the was absolute silence except the distant cheers of the crowd. Every guard was already down. Did Overwatch not trust her enough? Did they also send in someone else? She walked up to one of them and tried to find a pulse, see how much time until they woke up. 

She couldn't find one...the guards weren't unconscious, they were dead. Their bodies were still warm. 

The assassin was already here, already there, already about to take the shot. Tracer looked across to the other row of buildings and saw a figure hanging down from one of them. Kinda like a spider. She got closer and recognized her from one of the files that she read. Something about a new sniper or assassin. Would had been useful if she remembered who she worked for. 

Tracer blinked twice towards the sniper, feeling a rush of energy. The sniper looked away from her target right as she appeared above her, firing her pistols. She snapped the rope keeping her in air, leading her to kick in a window a floor below. The sniper turned around while reeling the grappling hook in. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Tracer’s face. Must had not expected someone like her to stop an assassin. 

“Tryin’ to crash another party, love? HA!” Tracer started firing again. The other flipped off the back of the railway and landed a hook on the ceiling. She blinked across towards her, about to grab her, when she was knocked aside towards the stairs with a sharp hit from the sniper’s leg. Tracer sprinted up the stairs, dodging bullets from the gun and trying to get up there faster. 

She wasn’t fast enough, she never would be fast enough. 

No, no, no. Now was not the time for Lena to interfere with the mission. 

The door to the roof was already open when Tracer slid to the top. She nearly missed the door completely at the speed she was going. She ran into the wall on the roof to try and catch a breath only to notice the sniper already up there and shooting at her. Tracer ducked behind the chimney for a chance to think. And to not get struck by bullets. 

She had exactly one second. 

She had to tell someone.

“Mondatta’s in danger! Shooter on the roof!” She yelled into her comm. “I repeat, shooter on the roof!” 

“This is a secure channel. No one’s auth-”

“Mondatta’s in danger! Get him out of here!”

“Identify yourself immedi-.” 

Tracer went silent as the sniper fired more rounds at her. She’s seen her before, read her file, what was her bloody name? 

The firing suddenly stopped, perhaps she was reloading? Now would be the perfect time to attack. 

She whipped around the chimney with both pistols up and ready to fire. 

“Huh?” Lena said in confusion. Where was she? She wasn’t on any other roof either. Tracer looked across the way to see two guards going on alert. They must had listened to her by an odd stroke of luck. 

Not a moment later she saw the sniper fly up towards the roof with the guards (probably with the grappling hook) and start attacking them. No, wait, was she killing them? She can’t tell at this distance. Tracer blinked across and started running after her. She took down 4 guards before firing three shots, each finding it’s mark in a guard’s head. The helmet slipped over her eyes again and located Mondatta. She looked back at Tracer with a small grin, inviting a challenge, before dashing off again. 

Tracer spun over the last wall and starting firing at her, hoping at least one bullet would actually stop her. She chased the assassin across the rooftops, copying her steps, trying to catch up. 

It was like a ballet of violence. A dance on top of King’s Row. One partner experienced, dodging and dipping, while the other was attempting to follow along. 

The sniper jumped across an opening in front of the old clock tower, disappearing out of sight for a second. Tracer soon followed, sliding down the rooftop to get a running start

But as she flew past the chimney a purple gas surrounded her. In surprise, she took a deep breath in and it filled her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. Her body stumbled forward as it tried to both catch up to the sniper and get the poison out of her lungs. She fell and kept moving forward, ending up in a fetal position a few meters from the edge. 

Lena was terrified. The mask was fighting to stay on, to keep calm. She kept coughing when she heard a gun click in her ear and pressure on her shoulder. Tracer looked up in surprise to see the sniper standing above her, about to shoot. 

“Such a sweet, foolish, girl.” 

Widowmaker was her name.

Or was it Amélie?

Either way, she was going to die if she didn’t do something. 

She felt herself enter the slipstream and wade up the river of time to seconds before. 

Tracer got out in front of Big Ben and blink upwards. Widowmaker stood there, just watching her for a second.

“Wot’s that?” She called out, firing a bullet at the pipe next to Widowmaker. The gas escaped, temporarily shocking her and made her lose focus as she tried to breathe. Tracer utilized this confusion to throw a Pulse Bomb. She threw it as far as she could, trying for a curve so it would directly hit Widowmaker. She saw her through the gas as it dissipated, saw her aim her gun in random directions, trying to find where her target was. 

Her face, when she saw the Bomb coming at her, was almost comical. Clear surprise, a first of the night. Lena almost couldn’t restrain herself from laughing. This elegant, deadly, indifferent sniper was caught off guard by her; a small, bright orange, clumsy pilot. What a twist. 

What didn’t make her laugh was the fact that Widowmaker shot the Pulse Bomb in mid-air. What didn’t make her laugh was the explosive power in the tiny bomb rushing towards her. 

Tracer flew off the roof and towards the crowd, helpless to whatever happens next.

Helpless…

Lena’s worse fear.`

She looked up to see Widowmaker falling as well, aiming directly at her. Not at her head...at the accelerator. She was aiming for the accelerator. If she didn’t do something she would be trapped in the slipstream again, trapped in hell again, trapped in time and not being able to get out.

She can’t let her get a hit.

Lena refuses to let her.

Right before the bullet entered the accelerator she blinked. She blinked and hoped that she would still be alive...

Tracer landed on a roof, quickly checking the accelerator for any sign of damage, any sign that she was still existing. Her search was ended when she looked up and saw Widowmaker standing there, content with herself. 

“Looks like the party is over.” 

What was the party? Why was it over? What was she even there for? Was she there to end the party? Party… ‘Tryin’ to crash another party, love?’ That’s what she said before. The party...was the speech. Why was it over?

Tracer ran to the edge of the roof and looked down. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that she just checked the accelerator, she would had been sure it was another timeline. But it wasn’t.

She was there, this was real.

Mondatta laid dead in the street. 

“No...no no no no…” 

The guards were trying their best to keep the crowd back. 

“No no no no NO!”

Lena was filled with rage. The woman standing next to her just killed her idol, killed an icon. The anger broke down the mask as she blinked towards Widowmaker, not caring that she was exposed. She crashed headfirst into her, making them both tumble along the rooftop to the edge. 

“WHY!” she yelled, pausing to take a breath, “Why would you do this?” Lena was on the brink of tears. She couldn’t understand it, why. Just why…

Widowmaker only smiled and chuckled in response, like this was all just a game to her. Like the real pain and real sadness that Lena and others were feeling was not existent. This was confusing to Lena. Even the most heartless of humans can tell when someone is hurt. 

Then Widowmaker must not be human anymore. Or at least not as much. How could that all change? What happened to her humanity?

Lena looked behind her when a spotlight was shining on both of them. A dark black and red plane hovered, waiting...for what? 

Red and black. 

Waiting....

Talon. 

It was a Talon craft.

They were picking up their assassin.

She was pinning down a Talon assassin.

How was she not dead.  
Lena was literally yanked out of her thoughts by Widowmaker. She pulled her very close to her face, unusually close. 

“Adieu chérie.” 

Lena didn’t have a moment to process what she said before she was thrown off the roof and slammed into the wall. She rolled for a bit before coming to a stop, just as Widowmaker got back up. 

Lena already felt bruises forming, she definitely broke at least one rib. Angela would have a fit later on. She tried getting up as slowly as possible, prepared to run back at her or recall. 

Wait. 

Do. Not. Recall. 

Sparks were flying from the accelerator. There were cracks in some parts of the supports, the metal holding it together, holding Lena in place. If she recalled or blinked or anything, she would break it. She would be lost again. It was damaged, but not enough at the moment that she would fade from existence.

She would survive.

\---------------------------------------------

At the moment of the kill…

Lena never felt less alive.


	8. Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masks are typically made from paper mache. Delicate, fragile, and can be incredibly detailed, concealing or hiding anything...
> 
> Except when it burns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. School started for me and I'm taking pretty hard classes so I haven't had much time. 
> 
> Warning: hints of self harm in this chapter.

The adrenaline from the fight was slowly wearing off and Lena felt the pain of her injuries. It hurt to breathe, to move, to even exist. She gingerly started crawling towards the wall, checking her wounds before heading back home. 

Bruises all over her, mainly her chest and back. Two or three broken, no no, bruised ribs. So that's why it was hard to breathe. She had other tiny cuts and more bruises all over her. And a headache, because her night couldn't get any worse. 

Lena slowly stood up and walked over to the edge, trying to find a way to get down. There was a very thin rusty ladder on the side of the building, but that most likely wouldn't support her weight. Jumping wasn't an option either in her state. She had to find another way down. 

Propellers spun in the sky and illuminated the streets. After the report of the assassination, security blimps were sent to the skies to search for the killer. The giant spotlights were also video streaming to the world. Lena forgot about this until one light went right past her. 

Widowmaker had already escaped on a Talon ship, leaving Lena at the sight of the crime. In bright orange leggings. And a glowing blue chest. 

The ladder will do. 

Lena slowly moved down the ladder. It creaked with every step and kept cutting her hands, but it was supporting her and getting her out of sight. Each step, another stab of pain through her ribs, but it was manageable. 

She must had stepped on a weak rung because halfway down she fell. 

Lena hit the pavement with a hard SNAP. Or maybe it was a crack. Either way, she landed on her arm. 

A mask doesn't cover sounds that well. Especially loud ones...

Lena screamed at the top of her lungs. She couldn't hold the pain in, swallow it down. She could only do that with emotional pain. Her arm was screaming, her ribs protesting the impact. Some people started coming towards her to help. She had to get away from them, there was no chance they wouldn’t report her. 

“Miss?! Are you hurt? Do you need help?” yelled one of the pedestrians. She forced herself to get up and start moving. 

“I’m calling an ambulance!” said another, phone in their hand. Her brain went into overload, running on pure instinct. The first objective was to run away, get somewhere she can recover. Alleyway? No, her apartment was better. There she can address her injuries and get a flight ready for the next day. She needs to get out of London, away from the security. 

The people were coming closer, she could hear an ambulance in the distance. Her body was out of energy and Lena was almost out of time. 

\-----------

There was a network of alleys and if you knew your way around they could be used to your advantage. You could get anywhere you wanted to go in London. But only if you're careful, because humans can still see in the dark. 

\-----------

Tracer ran for the nearest alley, holding onto her arm so it stayed put. Once there she could walk, slow down. The people tried following her, calling after her, constantly looking for that blue light. She slid behind a wall, hoping they would leave if they couldn't see her. 

“Stupid bloody girl, we only wanted to help.” They said, leaving the spot. Tracer let out a sigh of relieve and oriented herself. If she continued heading west, she should hit her apartment in about a half hour at walking pace. 15 running, but she was too exhausted and hurt for that. No one was in the maze of darkness at night, no one dared to look there. She was safe and free to walk around with her arms down and relax. 

The openings were always scary, the places where there was an exit. Or entrance. A view into the veins of London. She looked down on in the middle of walking between them and saw someone looking back. Then they looked down at her chest, spotting the accelerator. Tracer stood the like a deer in headlights, frozen in fear that they would report it. 

Which they did. 

Tracer started running, clutching her arm to her chest. Every step, every breath, every movement hurt. She stopped by a news broadcasting station, tuning in to see if it would be safe to walk again. 

“The suspect of the attack has been seen in an alleyway, supposedly running from the site. They are a girl with a brown jacket, orange leggings, and a blue chest. If you see this girl please contact officials about your location and her state. They are currently searching the east side of London.”

She couldn't rest, but she was safer than before. She had to be more careful. There was nothing she could do to conceal her identity, nothing to hide the blue light or her pants or face. She just had run.

Just like everything else in her life. 

\--------------

Tracer was shaking by the time she got back to her apartment. She scrabbled to get the key for it, knowing time was of the essence. Where was it? She got increasingly nervous the longer it took to find it. She finally got a hold of it when she heard someone coming up the stairs. Maybe it was her old neighbor or maybe it was the police. She didn't know and really didn't want to find out. 

She got into her apartment just as the person entered the hallway. 

Tracer took in shallow breaths as to not upset her ribs, trying to calm down. Once her voice was steady again she called HQ to request a lift out. Jack answered and sounded incredibly tired. The type of tired from putting up with someone for too long.

“Hello Tracer.”

Tracer put on her best voice, masking the fact that she was exhausted and in pain. 

“Heya! So do you think you could get me a lift out of here? I'm kinda hurt and on the wanted list.”

Jack grumbled as there was an explosion in the background. 

“Sorry, can't do that. Junkrat just blew up our last one.”

“OI WANTED TO TRY OUT JET FUEL!!”

The soldier covered the phone and shouted back at this “WELL NOW YOUR FRIEND IS HURT AND WANTED FOR ASSASSINATION AND WE CAN'T GET HER OUT!”

“SORRY LENA!” Junkrat called back. 

“We’ll try getting it fixed but you need to find another way out. Sorry kid.”

“Oh, no don't worry about it! It's-”

Jack hung up. 

“...fine.”

Tracer slowly brought the phone down. There was no way to get out. She would be stuck for a week where she was wanted. Alone. Scared. Not able to leave. 

Helpless...

Lena was overcome with anger. Why could nothing ever go right in her life? Why did she have to sit by helplessly while others tried helping her? Why couldn’t she do anything herself?

Why was she so helpless? So useless?

She needed to get this anger out on anything but herself. 

She threw her pillows off the bed, hitting the wall with them. That wasn’t working, Lena was losing control. She scrambled to the freezer and started throwing ice cubes everywhere, knowing they would shatter. They did, and little bits of ice hit her. The ice, the ice helped. It was like punishment for being helpless, that’s what she needed. 

No, that’s not what she needs, she needs to take it out in a non-hurtful way. 

Lena tried ripping up all of the old newspapers and mail by the door, hoping it would calm her urge. It didn’t. Maybe throwing around the blankets? All she was left with was a blank bed. Scribbling on leftover paper? Ended up just ripping it. Lena’s anger took control. 

She was in a haze of rage. She heard breaking and smashing, and then relief. All of it drained out of her once she felt that, leaving her to pass out from exhaustion. 

\-----------------------

Lena woke in the middle of the night to pain. She looked around her to gain her surroundings. Moonlight was streaming through the shredded curtains, all other lights out. Lena looked down at her hands and saw they were covered in blood. Broken glass was scattered around, shards pointing towards the sky. She felt exhausted. Lena slowly crawled over to her bed, cutting her hands and knees more. A trail of blood was following her, staining the floor and mattress. The bed had nothing left on it. But she fell asleep in it anyway, unable to stay awake any longer.

\----------------------

Sunlight shone through the window with nothing blocking their view. Directly in her face. Great way to start the day. She dragged herself towards the kitchen only to find all of the food was either rotten or nonexistent. Meaning she would have to wait until she got back to base to eat. Easy, just a plane trip away. When was her flight- oh. She was wanted, she couldn’t take a plane. Plan, plan, Lena had to make a plan. Last night was too chaotic to think, but the day always brought peace. She just had to think.

There was always a ferry from the south of England to Spain, where she wasn’t hunted for. The most that they checked were bags, no metal detectors, so her accelerator would be safe. There was a secret pocket in her bag for any weapons. And it was chilly out so a coat would be acceptable for this weather. From Spain, she can take buses and taxis around to get near the Watchpoint.

Why couldn’t she think of this before? She could have avoided having to spend extra time patching herself and the apartment up. Could have been already on the road, already closer to her next meal and home. 

She couldn’t do it because she can’t think right, because she’s stupid and rash. 

As soon as she was packed, she was out.

\-------------------------

The night before had been bad. Extremely bad. She let her emotions get the best of her, let the mask burn away in the fiery rage. The fire consumed the apartment, the mask, and herself. It was unnecessary and idiotic and just plain stupid that she couldn’t control it.

Angela had fixed up all of her injuries, knowing they were from the fight. Tracer lied when it came to the cuts on her hands and knees, saying it was from glass the assassin broke. It wasn’t a total lie at least. 

She finally got a meal and went back to her room to start writing the mission report. Now, how had it gone? It went well...didn’t it? Tracer was typing in succ-

She failed.

She failed to stop an assassination of a peacekeeper.

She failed to stop the tensions from rising.

She failed the world. 

And because of that, the world would pay the price of a million lives to another Crisis.

All because of her.


	9. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cracks make a mask unstable, breakable, easy to see through. Therefore, it's usually easier to shatter it and rebuild.

Tracer sat in silence at her desk, the realization not quite setting in yet. The shock of it not quite setting in yet. The door to her room opened and Winston came in with a plate. Of course, she forgot to lock it at a time she didn’t want to be seen. 

“I thought you would be hungry so I brought you something. Mei helped me make them.” He said, offering the plate. They were little peanut butter cookies, bite-sized almost. Maybe he didn't hate her. She started eating one when he asked the dreaded question. 

“So how did the mission go? I'm assuming you did well.” 

“Yeah buddy! I-” failed . She had failed. She's not going to tell him that though, to spare herself from more questions. 

“...I did well I think.”

“Of course you did, you always do.” Winston turned on the television in her room, expecting to see news of a prevented assassination. There was no fear of failure on her part in his mind. 

“Mondatta, a famous Omnic peacekeeper, has been assassinated in Kings Row. We believe the suspect or suspects have escaped into other countries into hiding. Some people think the infamous Widowmaker was the assassin, while others argue they saw another person at the scene. Either way, officials are looking-” 

Winston muted it and looked at Tracer. Why had she lied to him? This was the second time this week that she's lied about something serious. He's not mad about it, just curious. 

On screen, there were riots in the streets. Marches against humankind, saying that it was planned by the United Nations, saying it was meant to be done all along. They were moving out of the Underground and into the streets. And that was just in England. Footage from around the world showed peace flags being burned, monks shielding themselves in, crimes against humans skyrocketing. 

Tracer stared at the destruction and chaos around the world. She had caused this. 

“Lena? What are you thinking?” 

She couldn't think about his words, only about what happened, what she didn't do. 

“You okay?”

\----------

Destroy, rebuild.

\-----------

“...Lena?” Winston asked again. He didn't want to push her into a mask again or make her pretend she was okay. He knew for a fact she wasn't just by observation. Her hands were shaking, she was staring into space, unfocused, breathing heavily. He wouldn't interrogate her into telling him or keep asking to strangle the answer out of her. Winston would be there whatever happened, and hoped that she knew that. 

“...I'm useless.”

This was...odd. Tracer was always upbeat and whenever she failed a mission she would say that there's always next time. But maybe she was different behind closed doors. 

“No, you're not. You prevented other civilians from getting killed. You prevented her from turning it into a massacre.” .

“No...no I didn't. Her target was him, and everyone else died afterward in a slaughter I could have prevented if I wasn't a failure.” She said, holding her head. 

“Lena, there's always the next mission, it's fine, no big deal.” Maybe if he contained it she wouldn't freak out or panic, “You're helpless to how the people react, you just make them react positively the next time.”

Lena froze after he said that. She stopped shaking, stopped moving, even stopped breathing. 

\---------------------

Time is an illusion to most. Just a simple construct to help explain the universe. Not something real or influential. 

But to Lena, time and timing made all the difference in her life. 

And time was never on her side. 

\---------------------

Of course he would say that she was helpless, of course he would say she didn’t have control. That's what she's been feeling ever since she got out of the slipstream. Helpless, spiraling out of control like a plane with too much yaw, unable to get control of her actions or mind. 

Something inside her always breaks, always cracks, always shatters when she here's that one word, that one description that describes her entire being. 

Helpless. 

“There won't BE a next mission because I failed.” 

“Nonsense! Jack will let you go on one once this whole thing clears up.”

Lena felt a surge of anger again. Why couldn't he just understand? He was a scientist, he figures things out for his job. There won't be a next mission because she brought chaos to the world and all the next “missions” would just be about trying to fix the mess she created. 

“HOW DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND? IT’S ALL MY FAULT THAT HE’S DEAD!” Lena yelled, shaking the walls of her room. 

“Woah-woah-woah, calm down. There’s no reason to get angry or feel guilty.” 

Lena had every right to feel both. Maybe not angry, he didn’t know calling her...that...would make her angry. But guilty, oh she had every reason in the world.

“There no reason to be guilty. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Winston it’s entirely my fault that he died.” 

“You didn’t know that shot would line up. You’re not to blame. No one is blaming you, not even on the news. They’re blaming Widowmaker.” Winston unmuted the TV again, hoping that he would be right. 

“-the Orange Suspect was seen in the line of fire, now assumed to be the one trying to stop Widowmaker. But when the bullet came their way they disappeared. Was Orange more scared of dying than keeping the world at peace? As of right now, that seems to be the answer. I’m David Hattenbrah, back to you Daisy.” 

Silence filled the room when Winston turned it off. She was right, they were blaming her and rightfully so. Why was she such a coward then? Tracer would have taken the bullet any day. 

But then again it wasn’t Tracer who was falling towards the crowd, it was Lena. Scared, helpless Lena who didn’t want to get lost in time once more.   
“I should had just taken the bullet. Then everything would be better. Overwatch could be seen as an organization again, Mondatta would be alive, the world would still be at peace, Talon would have revealed their best weapon to the public…But no. Instead I was too fucking scared to do it and now look where we are.”

“What were you scared of? I know it’s not of dying from the bullet itself.” 

“I was too scared of-” Should she really say it?

“Too scared of-” Admit to him her biggest fear?

“You okay Lena?”

No, she’s not okay. But he would never know that unless she just says this one line. Just one sentence and she would never have to say she’s fine again. 

“I-I was too scared of being lost again. Being lost in time again. I wouldn’t be able to handle being alone and helpless again.”

“I thought you were okay with the slipstream. You go into it every time in battle and come out fine. I mean, you always seemed like you were okay.”

Lena felt tears start to escape her eyes and put her head in her hands. She didn’t want Winston to see that she was crying like a child caught lying. Which is basically what she was at this point. ‘Seemed to be okay’ he had said. That’s what she wanted him to think, wanted everyone to think. And now that’s ruined. And now he’s going to ask questions and now she can’t lie and say she’s fine. 

“Lena, talk to me. Why did you seem okay.” Winston asked. 

She looked him right in the eyes, teary-eyed and still crying. 

“I was never okay.” she started. “It was all just...just a mask. Just a-a mask that you all fell for. A m-mask for all of the nightmares and-and the fl-flashbacks and-dissociation and-and-and pain and-” 

Lena was sobbing into her hands, tears staining her bloody leggings. She couldn’t get air in, couldn’t get anything in. Everything she had built up inside of her- flushed out in a single moment. She felt Winston move her into his lap, holding her as she cried onto his jumpsuit. She didn’t even say thank you. She just. Kept. crying. Because there was nothing else to do, no other way to let it out. So she cried enough for a thousand years, just an endless, constant, stream of tears.

\------------------------------------

The sun was setting in the sky when she finally looked up. Winston was still holding her, how long had she been there? 

“Calm down, you’re okay Lena.” He said, trying to stop her from shaking. She followed his even breathing, steadying herself, grounding herself. She felt so bare, exposed, raw. Lena didn’t have a clue to how Winston was still there and holding her, how he was still putting up with her.

“You’re a good friend Winston.” She said, looking up at him, “Thank you for staying with me.”

“Well, that’s what friends are for. To help others on the roller coaster known as life.” Winston said with a chuckle. 

“Winston.” Lena started, “You have to promise you won’t tell Angela.”

She saw him deep in thought. Was he originally considering telling her? No, he’s a better friend than that. Although he did tell her last time...but this is something bigger and more personal. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Lena was overjoyed that her secret was safe.

“As long as you know it’s okay to come to me with anything.” 

“Don’t worry big guy, I will now.”

 

And that was the truth. Lena knew she could always trust her best friend in the end. 

“Cookie?” 

\------------------------------------------------

A single death can change everything.


	10. ¿?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time, we go to Widowmaker...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a filler chapter because the last chapter seemed like the end. The next part of the fic actually deals with their relationship and their transition from enemies to lovers. Also these are getting done super quick because I've been home sick lol.

Widowmaker’s heels made a distinct clicking sound each time they hit the floor. A never-ending click, click, click, click down the hallway. Every step and every breath hurt, she was not allowed to see a doctor nor eat until the mission report was given. She approached the end of the hallway, bathed in darkness. There was a desk somewhere, where the head of Talon sat, never showing his face.

“Mission report.”

“Success.”

“Good, any other notes?”

When she first became their asset, she would go on and on for hours about every detail of the mission. Every person that she saw, that she killed, every armed force. The Director would simply send her away to treatment each time she was excessive. She hadn’t given ‘any other notes’ in months. 

But this was a special case.

“Yes.”

“Well then speak.” 

Should she really? Her brain was acting slow again, King’s Row used up too much oxygen. Yes, she should say it. 

“Overwatch has recalled.” 

“And you know this how exactly?”

He was accusing Widowmaker of lying. 

“The girl who tried to stop me, she’s an agent of theirs. Lena Oxton.” 

There was complete silence from The Director. What was he thinking?

“Amélie.” He started, “do you need more treatment?”

“I don't respond to that name anymore.”

“Very well. Thank you for the information. You are dismissed.”

Widowmaker walked away from the desk, heading towards the medical bay. She needed to pick up more pills as well, the effects of hypoxia were kicking in again.

\---------------------

“We need to send in someone to observe Overwatch from the inside.”

“Wasn't The Shadow already in there?”

“Yes, but he went soft when he found his old boyfriend there. The previous leader, Jack.”

“We need someone who won't go soft, who won't get attached to anyone there.”

“Then send in The Spider.”

“Sir she's not good in the field like that, her body wouldn't adapt well.”

“They have one of the best doctors in the world with them, I'm sure she'll be fine. Send her in, that's an order.”

“Yes sir.”


	11. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay they hate each other!! Also tracer gets angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the huge delay! School is chaotic lol. I also needed to plan out the rest of this story because I didn't know I would get this far.
> 
> We are leaving behind introduction to this form of Tracer and Lena and now moving onto the actual widowtracer part, where their relationship will need to go from hating each other to loving each other and I have a vague idea how but somehow it will work. This will be a different style of writing so instead of deep and rich descriptions and interactions in Lena’s mind they will be between actual characters. This part is more romantic as well and I'm excited it's like a challenge for me lol. 
> 
> Also btw this chapter is very dialogue heavy sorry about that. I can’t write action scenes at all im so sorry. Another (sorry sorry) this chapter is intended to have some humor in it.

Lena woke up when the phone made a loud chirp. She grabbed it on instinct, wincing at the bright light. Just a message from Winston saying to get up for a meeting. Did she really have to? She was exhausted, mentally and physically. It had been a week since she told Winston about what she was really feeling- and a week of him constantly asking if she was okay. It was a kind gesture but Lena was done with being interrogated and pried open every day. 5 more minutes perhaps…

“GET UP LITTLE BEE.” Yelled Zarya, banging on Lena's door.

“OI UP!” She yelled back, just to stop her from kicking the door down. Lena groaned and slowly got up. Hopefully, she could sleep forever afterward. 

\-----------------

Tracer walked into the meeting room and immediately felt eyes on her. Not normal eyes, like the ones of her fellow teammates. Eyes that were not quite human. She scanned the room for the source of the feeling. Bright yellow eyes stared at her from across the table…

“What the hell is blueberry bitch doing here?” She said, eyeing Widowmaker. 

“Language Lena!” She didn't care, she just asked why she was there. Wasn't she Talon? She assassinated someone! How is she here?! Has Morrison gone mad? Has Winston gone mad? Wait maybe she was still dreaming, please let it be that.

“Pssst, Lena, sit over here,” Hana whispered, gesturing to the seat next to her. Hana herself was still in her pajamas. Lena huffed and sat down next to her.

“Who are you mad at?” She said following the snap of her gum. 

“It's nothing.”

“I'm one of your best friends Lena, and best friends tell best friends why they’re angry.”

“Fine...it’s murder croissant over there." Lena said, gesturing over to Widowmaker."

“The new one? Why? What did she do?” Lena turned to face Hana, unsure if she was serious or not. 

“OHHHHHHHHH is she the one that killed your idol?” 

“Yes, Hana. Why am I sitting next to you again?”

“Because you like me. Anyway, I'm sure it's just an announcement that she was captured and will be interrogated. Also, want some tea?”

“Wait-hold on say that slower.”

“I thought you were the fastest person in Overwatch, but I guess that's just a myth of fame…”

“Shut it, I just woke up. Now, what did you say?”

“Widowmaker. Was. captured. and. Will. be. used. for. info. on. Talon. And there's tea on the table.”

“Tea?”

“...wow.”

“GIRLS!” Jack snapped, looking directly at them. “Now that I have everyone's attention, I would like to draw said attention to our new…member.” All eyes turned to the purple figure sitting next to him. 

“I’ll take that tea now…” Lena whispered and accepted the cup. What could possibly the reason for having this meeting? Wouldn't a captive be kept confidential? Having a meeting just to say they captured someone sounds very spiteful. And it could be dangerous, if there’s like a camera in her or something, she could know everything. 

“This is Widowmaker.” Jack began. This isn't a bloody meet and greet we all know who she is the question still remains of why he called us here. 

“She will be used for information about Talon. During and after the information is extracted she will work for us as a sniper.” The tea she was drinking flew out of her mouth in surprise. All eyes glanced over at her, tea dripping down her chin.

“Why the hell is purple pepe staying as a sniper?!”

“We are low on numbers already why not put her to use?”

“Jack we already had have Hanzo.” She said, pointing at him. The archer sunk in his chair as eyes followed her finger. He wanted no part in this. 

“We need more than one sniper Lena…”

“Well, then we have Ana! Remember your old friend? Or does she not count?” 

“Lena, we need more members” Can Jack not see the dangers? Wait is he even in charge anymore? Hold on, WINSTON was in charge of Overwatch now, so why…? Whatever the reason, some of her friends could get hurt from her! What if she killed them in their sleep, what if Talon overtook the facility and she led them? 

“But what if she passes information to Talon with a camera in her or something?”

“Angela has already performed a scan and found no such thing. Do you really think we would not have done that?” Well...he could had forgotten it in his old age. Also, why was she the only one speaking against this? Did no one else care? 

“Winston how can he do this?” Tracer started, turning to face him. 

“Actually, um, I decided it but I’m not good at public speaking.”

“Does anyone else have an opinion on this?” Her voice was gradually rising in outrage. Surely someone else wants to speak about it!

“Well, there ought to be a lot of security, and there is, so count me as on board.” Said Torbjörn. Other around started nodding their heads. What? 

“If Jack and Angela both say it’s safe, then I consider it safe,” Ana spoke up. What? But-her eye-didn’t her eye get taken out by Widowmaker? Why was she letting her in?

“But-”

“That’s enough Lena. She is staying and that is final. Winston, please take her outside. This meeting is disbanded.” Oh really, now he was going to cut her off? He’s not the boss of her, he’s not even the boss of Overwatch, why should she be taking orders from him? 

She felt Winston guiding her outside the meeting room. Lena looked back into the room to see Widowmaker smirking back at her, like a fox that cornered its prey. 

“Winston-”

“We are low on members...and she’s a decent sniper.” 

“Which you know frOM HER MURDERING MONDATTA!!”

“Lena stop yelling! You’re acting like a child!” She was being perfectly rational and had valid concerns. Although...no. She had a right to act like this, Mondatta’s death was still fresh in her mind. The bullet driving through the thin layer of metal was burned into Lena’s mind. It haunted her, taunted her, his limp body on strings tied to Widowmaker’s blue fingers danced in front of her eyes at night. And also-

“Lena!” Winston snapped her out of her thoughts, thankfully. “I’m going to check on the security devices I’m making for her. She won’t be unguarded.” 

Once Winston left Lena was still left aggravated. Does anyone remember into the last week? Now, Tracer had a shit memory after the Slipstream but she can’t forget something like that. How? How do they not realize they've hired a killer? Actually, a lot of them were killers or mercenaries, what’s the difference? NO, no they all worked for Overwatch as opposed to working for the enemy. 

Lena’s thoughts went silent when something made noise behind her. A constant noise, one that was getting closer every step. Click, click, click, click, it went on the metal pathways. Gradually growing in volume until they stopped behind her. She didn’t dare to breathe. 

“Tiens, tiens...It looks like we will be working together. Right, chérie?” She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t even feel her heart as that icy cold voice flowed over her. 

And then she had the gall to lay her hand on her shoulder.

A literal cold-hearted killer who murdered one she idolized dared to touch her, to act as friends or lovers. Lena was not in the mood for games or anything for that matter. And the touch ignited a spark. A spark like a wildfire burning houses down, toppling forests, killing everything in its path. The path, in this case, that Widowmaker was in the middle of. 

“Don’t you EVER think I’m happy about that,” Lena said, before whipping around and socking her in the gut. Widowmaker kneeled forward, caught off guard by the sudden hit. She then knocked her over, hoping to get a height advantage once Widowmaker was on the ground. Lena felt something grab the collar of her jacket and pull her down. A second later she was underneath Widowmaker and she couldn’t breathe. A blue hand was curled around her neck, nails digging into her skin. Which was...actually kinda hot. She would have enjoyed it if it was literally anyone else in the world except Widowmaker. Her vision was starting to blur, she needed to get out of her grip now. Lena started kicking wherever she could with her legs, pulling with her arms. Widowmaker’s body shook, but did not let up. She heard a voice in the distance, growing closer, yet neither of them turned to answer it. If she goes another second without air…

The hand released its iron grip and Lena got a full lungful of air before looking up. Fareeha was standing above them, holding Widowmaker away from Tracer. 

“Both of you are going to the infirmary,” she said, grabbing Lena as well. They both knew they were defeated, but that didn’t stop them from glaring at each other the whole way there.

\----------------------------------------

“Habibti! Can you help?” Fareeha called out in the infirmary. Angela came rushing through the doors right as Widowmaker and Tracer were sat on one of the infirmary beds. 

“So sorry, I was still in the meeting. Jack and Winston were talking about security with...oh. Security with one of my patients, what a coincidence.” Mercy walks over to them, like a mother who just caught naughty children. 

“She started it.” They both said, pointing at one another. Lena shot a poisonous glance at Widowmaker, only to see how much damage she actually did. There were bruises scattered across her arms and back, she was struggling to breathe a bit. 

“None of that, both of you hurt each other. Now wait-without hurting each other-while I get supplies.” Angela walked away from the pair and started discussing the meeting with Fareeha while retrieving said supplies. 

“I hate you,” Lena whispered, for it was the only volume she could muster due to her throat.

“I hate you more.” Widowmaker shot back, challenging Tracer at a comeback.

“Well, I hate you most.”


	12. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting continued after Winston left, he and Angela return to find Ana and Jack arguing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know this isn't even 1,000 words and that it's been like 5 months but I kinda fell out of the fandom and this fic. I know I'm going to get destroyed by this in ff.net reviews but idc.

Winston walked back towards the meeting room when he felt someone bump into him from behind. 

“So sorry Winston! I didn't see you there.” Angela said, starting to walk beside him.

“I'm not going to ask how you missed an 8-foot tall gorilla. You heading back to the meeting?”

“Fareeha was helping me deal with Lena and Widowmaker. They got into a small fight.” A small fight which will probably be repeated many times in the future. 

As they came closer to the door they still heard voices inside. The voices were yelling about something, arguing back and forth. The pair kept quiet and listened once they got close enough to hear what they were actually saying. 

“I thought he said ‘and a sniper’!” Said a voice from behind the door.

“Why on Earth would he say ‘and a sniper’ when his best friend broke down crying and hating herself because of said sniper?!” Someone else shouted back.

“I think it's Ana and Jack…” Angela said, recognizing her old friends. “Do you think we should keep listening? It sounds private.”

“It's about the meeting so...I guess we could.” Winston replied. Angela shushed him before the people inside were alerted. 

“I wasn't thinking right! I'm old!”

“Or maybe you were...what’s the word...distracted?” 

“What is he distracted by?” Winston said, making Angela jump. 

“Be quiet before they hear us!” She whispered, he was always so loud. Not his fault, just his natural voice. He muttered a quick apology and they tuned in only to hear footsteps approach the door. The door was jerked open to see an angry Amari standing there, the sour look probably from Jack inside. 

“Why don't you come in and help us with our...conversation about what to do with Widowmaker. I'm sure Jack wouldn't mind, right?” She said, shooting a glare at him. The soldier shrunk down in his seat, trying to hide himself from Ana’s gaze. The pair gingerly walked into the room and sat down, the tension quite obvious now. 

“Jack, sorry, but Ana said that you were distracted by something, can we know what that is?” Angela said. She felt bad, using eavesdropping to her advantage. She could clearly see that he was uncomfortable. However, it was also her duty to make sure everyone was at peak performance.

“I'm not-” he started. 

“It's Gabe, isn't it?” Ana cut in, sipping her tea. “You're still searching for him. Even after all these years you still have hopes that he'll come back to you.”

“Who's Gabe?” Winston asked Angela, not wanting to go anywhere near those two and their conversation.

“Old Overwatch member, once one of our closest friends, and Jack’s old boyfriend,” Angela told him. She missed Gabe as well but she wouldn't waste her time searching for him. Plus he probably hates her now because of the whole bringing-back-to-life-as-a-sentient-stormcloud thing. 

“Did you hope it would be Gabe outside the compound instead of Widowmaker.”

“Wait, what-” the scientists said. “Why was-who-what-”

“We found Widowmaker curled up in a corner and shivering outside a Talon compound. Did you think we would storm into a Talon base just to capture one sniper?” Jack said, trying to soften his voice. 

“Jack wishes it was Gabe in the corner instead of Widowmaker.” Ana shot at him, earning a glare from Jack this time.

“Jack, when did you hear me say ‘and as a sniper?’” Winston said, trying to draw the conversation away from Gabe. He hated tension, especially in teams. 

“I-I heard you mutter something after you said used for information. I'm sorry, okay?” Maybe they were being a bit too hard on Jack…

“And Ana, you agree with him when he said she was working with us, care to explain that?” Winston asked. Not only because he wanted to move off of interrogating Jack, but he didn't want a secret Talon agent in his base. One agent was enough.

“Simple. I first thought it was just a mistranslation, which I can see now that it is. I also thought that if you were holding here, she would be highly guarded. Is that not the truth?” Everyone looked over at Winston, expecting him to say he had something ready. Which he didn't. Well, not yet but he was working on it. That had to count for something, right?

“I'm working on it. I'm making one of the old cells functional and more secure.” Hopefully, that would be enough. 

“You have two weeks to finish it, Winston, that's how it took for her to strike last time.” Angela said, remembering Gerard’s blood sprayed across the walls, “Until then, we have an enemy on the loose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this in my drafts for months but I was going to make it longer but I didn't have anything else to upload.


End file.
